


The Knitting Bandit

by EmpireMurderer



Category: Star Wars, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Gen, Knitting, Mitaka is Cold, Star Destroyers are Iceboxes, That's Why Nobody Wears Shorts, anonymous gifting, everyone needs a hobby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-30
Updated: 2018-08-30
Packaged: 2019-07-04 15:45:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15844398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmpireMurderer/pseuds/EmpireMurderer
Summary: Someone aboard the ship is anonymously giving knitted gifts.  They're warm, cozy and becoming quite popular, much to the chagrin of the Knight of Ren.





	The Knitting Bandit

 

Space is cold.

 

Dopheld Mitaka walked out of his quarters and nearly stumbled over the little black bag laying at the foot of his door. He picked it up and looked inside, his eyes going wide in surprise.

“I got hit!” he cried out in glee as he pulled the gloves from the bag. “I got hit by the band-knit!”

 

Kylo Ren stalked through the bridge of the star destroyer seeing hints of color hidden everywhere in the pit; purple and gold socks peeking from beneath chief petty officer Unamo’s pant legs, black and red hat with ear warmers perched on sergeant gunnar Jakes’ head, and now those green gloves Mitaka wore as he toggled with the levers of his console.

“General Hux,” Kylo growled while walking across the platform above the sections towards the General who stood with hands behind his back. Staring out in the expanse of space, he slightly turned his head in the direction behind him in acknowledgment. “What is the meaning of this, Hux?”

“The meaning of what?” Hux asked in his cool, collected way. He did know and it peeved Kylo off that he was forcing him to explain.

“These are not standard colors of the First Order,” he replied, pointing to Mitaka’s gloves. Mitaka stared dismally at his mittens, hoping he wouldn’t be ordered to take them off.

Hux shrugged and waved Kylo dismissively away. “I will allow it for the time being. Ever since the Band-knit has first struck, efficiency has risen by eight percent.”

He was well aware that Hux was allowing it because Kylo showed signs of not liking it. The first time one of the lieutenants had worn her blue socks to the bridge, Kylo had pitched a fit. With a smile, Hux declared the socks to be within an officer’s rights to wear. Afterwards, Hux gave leniency to all knitted items.

“Band-knit…” Kylo muttered, clearly unamused. “An absurd name.”

“Please,” Hux scoffed. “Anyone could say the same for ‘Kylo Ren’.

“You’re a dick.”

“I’ll add that to my report to Snoke later. At least band-knit makes sense. Besides, knitting bandit is too much of a mouthful.”

“I assume you’ve launched an investigation?”

“Investigation into what?”

“Finding out who the band-kn-…the culprit is.”

“Culprit?” Hux positioned himself to face Kylo and gave him a glare suggesting he’d lost his mind. “Nothing criminal has occurred. And didn’t you hear me say eight percent efficiency improvement? There’s no reason to launch an investigation, but since you don’t do anything around the ship, feel free to look into it on your own. Just a bit of advice though; no one’s going to give you a medal for catching some old lady anonymously gifting soft winter apparel.”

“There aren’t any old ladies on the ship,” Kylo muffled through his vocoder as he turned on his heel.

“Good luck catching the nefarious knitter!” Hux laughed as Kylo stalked back across the platform. “Better ready your lightsaber! Could be dire against the experience of those well-wielded knitting needles.”

 

In the past few weeks, Kylo had noticed some of the stormtroopers marching out of the transport vehicles were wearing brightly colored knitted socks.

“Box of them. Sitting out by the barrack entrance,” Phasma informed him when he inquired of their existence. She whipped her silverstaff at his head and he countered with a quick deflection from his silver sword.

“And you let them wear them?” Kylo asked, stepping back on the training mat and readying for another strike.

Phasma shrugged and circled him, looking for an opening. “Hux says it’s fine though I’m sure it’s just to piss you off.”

“Why would anyone want to wear knitted anything?”

“Have you seen the workmanship on those socks? They’re immaculate.”

“Like you know anything about knitting.” He made a quick movement that caused her to flinch, but no strike was made and she kept circling him.

“Fine, maybe I don’t. But from what I hear, it’s like walking on warm, fluffy layers of clouds. Why _wouldn’t_ you want to wear them?”

“Standard uniform not good enough for anyone anymore?”

“God, no,” Phasma said in repulsion. “First Order underwear is cheap and uncomfortable. I’d wear a pair of brightly colored socks to battle any day over the thin excuse of synthetic material the First Order hands out.” She saw an opening and jabbed her staff at his rib. He sidestepped and swung his sword quickly enough to block her attempt. She went back to circling him.

“I can’t believe you’re okay with this,” he told her, prepared for another attack.

“What’s the harm?” She circled him counter-clockwise then quickly shifted into a clockwise radius, trying to pull him off guard, but it was never that easy. “Besides, what does it matter to you? You’re awfully sour about all this.”

“Like I care about the phantom knitter,” Kylo replied with a tone of disgust. Phasma straightened up and shot him a glare.

“Oh, you definitely care,” she responded matter-of-factly. “I can tell.” He gave her a quiet scowl for roughly two point seven seconds before raising his clenched fist and trying to will her staff out of her hands. She felt the pull and gripped on it tighter, not allowing it to escape. With a flick of his wrist, the staff pulled back and lightly knocked her upside her blonde head like a hand puppet hitting itself with a stick.

“Dammit, Ben!” she shouted as she rubbed the side of her head. “I’m not sparring with you anymore if you’re going to be such an ass.” She threw down her staff and trudged over to where her helmet and cape awaited her.

“Oh, c’mon!” Kylo complained after her with hands raised in capitulation. “Fine. Sorry. I won’t use the Force, all right? Just come back and spar with me. You’re the only one who can give me a challenge on this stupid ship.”

“No way!” she answered, pulling her helmet on and grabbing her cape. “Next time don’t be such a jerk.” Phasma hooked her finely knitted cape across her shoulders. It swayed majestically behind her as she marched out of the training room.

 

A week passed when Kylo Ren entered the bridge and found Hux doing the thing he liked to do best; standing in front of the window and looking out at the stars in a commanding pose for all the subordinates to see.

As Kylo walked up the platform towards Hux, he could sense an entirely different mood than the usual sulkiness from the red head.

“Ah, Ren,” the general turned and greeted with a rare smile. “So good of you to join us.”

“It appears your embroidery elf struck again,” Kylo pointed to Hux’s greatcoat.

“Yes, lucky it did. I was all out of coats,” Hux replied as he modeled the gray coat. Kylo couldn’t help but feel like they were on a fashion runway. “This one is much warmer and cozier. These stitch patterns are quite intricate, don’t you think?”

“I think you’re a fool,” Kylo stated, causing Hux’s smile to only slightly falter.

“I’m no Sith, but I sense the jealousy emanating from your foul mind.”

“I’m not jealous!” Kylo gritted. He could never admit to anyone how amazing that coat looked on Hux, though he was willing to admit it to himself. He really didn’t think Hux deserved such a work of art.

“Perhaps if you weren’t so ‘hard at work,’” Hux air quoted, “maybe the stitching saint wouldn’t leave you out of the gifting. As it is, you’ll never get anything.”

“Oh, you think? The only reason you allow anyone to wear knitted gifts is because I don’t have one. If I were to wear one you’d go straight to the Supreme Leader and complain.”

“No, I wouldn’t,” Hux sneered, crossing his arms against his chest and pointing his chin decidedly into the air. From in the pit, all the officers listened with keen interest.

“Of course you would,” Kylo goaded. “If I were to wear a bright orange knitted tunic from your so-called Band-knit, you’d run straight to Snoke and then he would deal with your incessant whining by proclaiming no one could wear anything knitted, forcing everyone to put up with this freeze box of a ship without the comforts of their gifts just because you’re spiteful enough to gripe about something so finicky.”

Hux’s smile faded away into nothing while Kylo spoke. It took him a good four seconds to collect his words.

“No, I wouldn’t.”

“Excellent argument,” Kylo replied disdainfully. “I’m sure you would have made just as skillful a lawyer as you do a general.” Giving Hux no time to retort, Kylo spun around and headed back to the turbolifts. He should have known that wouldn’t have stopped Hux from getting in the last word.

“Go and hunt down your yarn outlaw then!” Hux cried after him. “I’m sure you’ve nothing better to do than to chase down a scandalous seamstress corrupting your conceptions of the ideal outfit! I’ll be sure to let you know if there are any criminal offenders trying to give out free milk and cookies. No niceties on this ship, right Ren? It might off-set the balance you need for your stupid dark side crap!”

Hux did not stop yelling until Kylo was well out of earshot.

 

Kylo hid away in his quarters like he did every night. He went immediately to his secret compartment and drew out the large box under the floor. He lifted the lid off and placed it to the side, rubbing his hands together excitedly as he gazed upon the stored item.

_Tomorrow_

He picked up his knitting needles and settled on his bed with a large roll of dark blue yarn. That scrawny TIE pilot from Blue Squadron looked like she could use a scarf. It was the only way he could tune out all the loud external thoughts that carried throughout the ship. He focused on his needles and lost himself into his art.

 

  Kylo Ren found General Hux on the bridge again still wearing that magnificent knitted greatcoat. Hux turned to look at the new arrival, his smug expression dropping off his face to be replaced with disbelief.

“You called for me,” Kylo said. He kept his voice impartial, even though his vocoder did that for him.

“I-…uh…,” Hux stumbled in a low tone. He cleared his throat and carried on. “Yes, the probe from Endor has alerted us to Resistance forces assembling. We believe it may be the location of one of their bases.”

“Ready my ship,” Kylo answered.

“You’re not my goddamned superior,” Hux crassed.

“Somebody ready my ship!” Kylo shouted, fully expecting one of the officer’s on the bridge to hop right to it. By now he could feel all the envy accumulating in the room as he stalked down the runway-…er, platform of the bridge. Behind him, he could hear Hux yanking off his greatcoat and throwing it down to the floor.

With head held high, Kylo strutted down the aisle. His knitted outfit still resembled the one he usually wore, but it was the full mask he had managed to knit his vocoder into that was what he considered his masterpiece. It was of a red and black pattern with a crown of horns spiking out, looking every bit as intimidating as he had hoped. He even lined the eye holes with yellow, giving him a more menacing appearance.

It was warm and comfy and oh, so flexible to move around in. Much better than that heavy, itchy, synthetic fiber he was given by the First Order. This showcase implied that the Band-knit, having given him this work of art, clearly admired him the most. He loved the feeling of jealousy surrounding him wherever he went. He wore the Darth Maul mask with pride.

And there was nothing Hux could do about it.


End file.
